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drove the same three hours to the same upscale hotel where Hudson and Alex had taken turns fucking me. I arrived around the same time in the early evening, after Hudson would be done with work. He had not given any more details about his plans. I didn't know if it would be just the two of us, or maybe Alex would join us again, or some other guy. I had already decided that I was up for whatever came, and I would maintain an open mind and simply enjoy myself.

Just as before, when I arrived, I texted him and quickly received his room number. I rode the elevator upwards, a young, single woman with an overnight bag in tow. For a moment, I wondered if the strangers I passed in the corridor suspected anything, seeing a buxom young woman in a modest dress, unaccompanied, arriving at a hotel that catered to upscale business travelers. I imagined them thinking I was just some guy's plaything, then I pushed the thought aside. Nobody could have a way of knowing that, I realized, even though it was basically the truth.

When I reached the room, things played out much as they had the last time. He greeted me with a warm kiss. He took my bag and placed it in the closet. He then offered me a drink. It was only the second cocktail I'd ever had. In my mind, I wondered if he intended it to lower my inhibitions, or if that had been his intent last time. Or perhaps, he was simply treating me like he would any adult guest. We made polite small talk about my drive up. The anticipation was killing me. I wanted to know the plans for the night, but he gave no hint. His expression was unreadable. Finally, I could not help myself. I had to ask. "Is tonight going to be like last time?" I ventured, my voice a little breathless.

He was coy, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Is that what you would like, Bea?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

Unsure of what type of answer he truly sought, I stammered, "I've come with no plans in mind. I trust you."

His smile widened, and he let out a soft laugh. "That's good," he said, "because I was just about to ask you again if you trusted me."

I smiled, assuring him, "Of course I do."

He then took out his phone to text someone. Eager to know the plan, I couldn't resist asking, "Is it Alex again?" For a second, I pondered how funny it was that I hadn't really thought about him since that wild night. I had replayed the act, the sensations, and the unexpected thrill countless times, but Alex himself held no specific thoughts for me. He truly was just a stranger I had fucked. A meaningless pleasure. Something that never would have been a part of the plan for my life just a few months back, when I dreamed of meeting a nice guy, settling down, and him being my true love and one sexual partner.

Hudson glanced up from his phone. A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes. "No," he said, "it's not Alex. But I am inviting a guest to the room. It's a surprise."

Moments later, a soft knock echoed at the door. Hudson opened it, and my breath hitched. It was her. The same woman I'd seen visiting Hudson's house a few weeks earlier. My stomach twisted with instant anger, and I tried to hide it, forcing my expression into a neutral mask. He had said she was just a work colleague dropping by to deliver some files. Obviously, I'd had a right to be jealous and suspicious. She was more than just that.

He led her into the room. "Lana," he introduced her, "this is Beatrice."

I tried to hide my envy as I extended my hand, forcing a polite smile. "Hello, Lana," I managed, shaking her hand. I could feel myself being cold, my fingers stiff and unwelcoming.

Lana, however, didn't acknowledge my coolness. She smiled warmly, her brown eyes sparkling. "It's so happy to meet you, Beatrice," she said, her voice genuinely pleasant. "I've heard a lot about you."

We moved towards the plush sofa, and I settled next to her as Hudson went to fix drinks at the minibar. While he was occupied, I absorbed every detail about Lana. She was older than me, perhaps in her mid-20s. Latina, with dark, chin-length hair cut in a sleek bob that framed her face. She had the same voluptuous figure as me and Hudson's wife, a buxom hourglass shape, but she carried it with a confident grace. Her body was fit and toned, a level I had only been working towards, her legs incredibly long and sculpted. She was similar in height to me, with full, inviting lips and warm brown eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Her business professional attire consisted of a perfectly tailored navy skirt suit, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at her curves, with a silky white blouse that was impeccably buttoned, suggesting a subtle power beneath its formality.

Hudson returned with our drinks, a knowing smile on his face. "Are you two ladies getting to know each other?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. I noticed his easy, natural rapport with Lana. The way they looked at each other, the casual familiarity in his voice. I was sure they'd fucked before.

"It's going wonderfully," Lana replied, her smile bright and genuine.

I agreed, but my voice was tight. It was obvious I was not comfortable.

Hudson chuckled, a low sound. "I'm not so sure, Lana," he said, glancing at me. He seemed to relish my discomfort. "I'm worried Beatrice may feel a little insecure. Or even jealous."

Lana took control, her voice politely firm, but with an effusive warmth. "Oh, honey, no!" she said, turning to me, her eyes full of sincerity. "Jealousy is definitely not warranted. Hudson adores you, Beatrice. He sings your praises constantly. I've heard so much about you." She reached out, gently taking my hand in hers, her fingers softly stroking my knuckles. Her brown eyes held mine, earnest and kind. I searched her gaze for any hint of deception, any lack of sincerity, but found none. "I truly hope you don't have the wrong idea about tonight, or about me," she continued, her voice dropping to a softer, more seductive tone, her fingers still caressing my hand. Hudson watched in silence, taking a slow sip of his drink, his expression unreadable.

"This night isn't about Hudson having two women," Lana explained, her thumb drawing slow circles on the back of my hand. "It's about three people enjoying themselves together. I don't want you to be uncomfortable or insecure, Beatrice. I want you to enjoy yourself. I want you to be lavished with attention." She took it upon herself, her voice calm and reassuring, to alleviate any concerns I might have. She continued softly stroking my hand throughout the conversation, her gaze fixed on mine, unwavering. "How can I make you relax, Beatrice?" she asked, her voice a gentle murmur.

I protested, trying to pull my hand away. "I'm not uncomfortable," I insisted, forcing a brave facade. My heart raced, but I tried to project an air of being laid back and open to anything.

Lana gave a soft, knowing laugh. "Oh, honey," she said, her voice teasing. "I can tell you're not comfortable. And I want to fix that." I meekly tried to protest again, but she tightened her grip on my hand. She looked directly into my eyes. "I'd like to kiss you, Beatrice," she murmured, her gaze unwavering. "You're so pretty. So sexy."

I didn't know what to say. My mind raced, a whirl of conflicting thoughts. Kiss me? I had never even considered being with another woman. I had always considered myself 100% straight. I felt nervous, but also a strange heat, a curious warmth spreading through me. All I could do was nod tentatively, a small, involuntary movement of my head.

Lana leaned in slowly, her gaze still locked with mine. Her lips, soft and full, gently brushed against mine, then pressed, lightly at first, then with increasing pressure. It was a slow, sensual kiss, entirely unexpected. Her tongue, warm and soft, tentatively traced the seam of my lips. I gasped, a soft, involuntary sound. Her hands, warm and gentle, moved from my hand to my upper arms, caressing me, sending shivers through me. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the intoxicating sensation of her mouth on mine.

When we finally parted, my heart was out of control, hammering a furious rhythm against my ribs. I didn't know what to think. I was aroused and utterly confused, my senses reeling. Without thinking, acting purely on instinct, I leaned back in, aggressively kissing Lana again. This time, I used my tongue, pushing it into her mouth, exploring her. My hands, emboldened, moved to caress her upper arms, my fingers tracing the firm lines of her biceps beneath the formal fabric of her blazer.

Lana returned the kiss hungrily. Her hands roamed my body, touching my arms, then my hips, then the outer curves of my thighs. A soft moan escaped me. I was excited in a way I had never felt before, a strange, dizzying rush of pure, raw sensation. This can't be real, I thought. How could this beautiful, sophisticated woman be turned on by me? I felt inadequate, so young and naive and inexperienced despite my awakening over the past few months. Just a young woman in an inexpensive white shirtdress. But it couldn't be a ruse, because what would the endgame be? I had to accept that this woman truly wanted me right now, for reasons beyond my comprehension.

Lana stopped touching me long enough to remove her own tailored blazer. She tossed it aside, revealing the sleek, white sleeveless top beneath. Then, she kissed me more aggressively, pushing me onto my back on the sofa. She laid on top of me, her weight warm and comforting, pressing me into the plush cushions. I had never imagined a woman could be so ravenous and eager. I had never been this aggressive with Hudson, even at my most comfortable and when I needed him to fuck me. I wondered again if this was a ruse, some kind of show, perhaps just to impress Hudson. But it seemed genuine, her movements fluid and utterly focused on me.

Lana praised me between kisses on my lips and neck. "You're so sexy, Beatrice," she murmured, then, "Oh, honey, you're so hot." She started to open the large buttons on my simple dress. I could hardly believe another woman was undressing me, horny for me. Lana quickly worked the buttons, revealing my cleavage and my pretty white satin bra beneath. She leaned down, kissing my cleavage, her soft lips warm against my skin.

She lifted her head, her brown eyes burning into mine. "Tell me, honey," she demanded, her voice a hungry whisper, "what do you want? Tell me what feels good."

I was nervous, my mind a blank. "I don't know," I mumbled, my voice small.

"Do you want my mouth on your breasts?" she asked, her voice softer now, coaxing.

"Yes," I breathed, the single word escaping me, raw and desperate. All the while, Hudson watched. He held his drink in one hand, idly massaging his cock through his slacks with the other, his gaze fixed on us.

Lana pushed the cups of my bra down, freeing my heavy, round breasts. She took one of my stiff nipples into her mouth, sucking gently, then alternating between them. Her tongue swirled around the hardened tip, pulling it deeply into her mouth, then releasing it with a soft pop. She teased, licked, and sucked, drawing on my sensitive flesh with agonizing slowness, making me gasp and arch my back. My breasts, already aching from the night before, throbbed with a new, exquisite sensitivity under her touch. The sensation was intoxicating, entirely new, and unbelievably arousing.

"You've never had another woman suck your breasts before, have you, honey?" she murmured, pulling back just enough to speak, her breath warm against my chest.

Between whimpers and moans, I confirmed, "No, I haven't."

As she continued to suck and tease my nipples, driving me wild, Lana pushed my dress up, revealing my bare legs. Her hand drifted up my inner thigh, tracing a path to my mound. I was already soaked, the satin clinging to my wetness. She pushed the gusset aside, and with a soft gasp, my freshly shaved pussy was exposed to her touch. Without hesitation, her fingers found my clit, expertly beginning to work it while her mouth remained fixed on one of my nipples.

A powerful moan tore from my throat. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, a dizzying rush of pure sensation. Her fingers danced over my clitoris, circling, flicking, stroking, while her mouth pulled and teased my breast. My hips instinctively lifted, grinding into her hand. "Please," I mumbled, over and over, lost in a state of pure bliss. My body trembled, my head falling back against the cushions of the sofa, every nerve ending screaming.

"Do you want to cum for me, Beatrice?" Lana whispered, her voice a low, seductive hum, her mouth still latched onto my nipple, her fingers never breaking their rhythm on my clit. "Tell me you want to cum."

"Yes," I gasped, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. "Please, Lana. Yes."

She intensified her strokes, working my clit with a practiced urgency. Her suckling grew more fervent, drawing harder on my nipple. The pressure built, impossibly, exquisitely, and then, a blinding wave of pleasure crashed over me. My body arched, my legs stiffening, as a raw cry tore from my throat. My internal muscles clenched, squeezing around her finger, as wave after wave of intense, shattering climax consumed me. I screamed, I moaned, lost in the sensation, my body convulsing against her hand and mouth.

When the tremors finally subsided, leaving me breathless and shaking, Lana pulled her mouth from my breast and her fingers from my pussy. She leaned up, her eyes soft and satisfied, and kissed me gently on the lips. Then she tasted her fingertips. My vision was still blurred, my body pulsing with aftershocks. This was entirely new, entirely unexpected, and incredibly, powerfully arousing.

"You taste delicious, Beatrice," Lana murmured, a low purr in her voice, as she sucked her fingertips. She kissed my lips again, a soft, lingering press. "So sexy, honey." Her eyes, warm and dark, held mine, full of a deep, knowing pleasure. "Do you want me to eat your pussy, Beatrice?" she asked, her voice a low, seductive whisper.

I felt nervous, a tremor running through me, but a new determination settled deep in my core. "I want to make you feel good too," I managed to say, my voice still a little shaky, but firm.

Lana chuckled softly, a warm, reassuring sound. "There's no rush, honey," she said, her fingers gently rubbing my bare thigh. "I want you to relax. I want you to enjoy every second." She grazed my clit again with a feather-light touch, then, with a confident motion, she began to finger-fuck me, her gaze fixed on my face, watching my expression with pure, pleased contentment. Hudson remained silent on the armchair, enjoying his drink, his gaze fixed on us, his hand idly massaging his own dick through his slacks.

I started to pant and moan, my hips instinctively lifting against her hand. I had never felt this sensation, this feeling of someone else so completely, solely tending to my needs. Even at his most attentive and intimate, with Hudson, I always felt it was about mutual pleasure, about him getting off on my reaction as much as I did. In contrast, Lana seemed to be purely thrilled by tending to my needs, by eliciting my moans and gasps. It was intoxicating.

Lana slowly intensified the finger-fucking, her nimble fingers working deeper inside me while her thumb began to rub my clit with increasing pressure. My moans grew louder, uninhibited, as I lay on the sofa on my back, my tits exposed, the skirt of my dress bunched at my waist, my soaked satin panties pushed aside. I knew I could just stay there, wrapped in this pure sensation, and be content.

Then, with a fluid movement, Lana repositioned herself. She knelt between my thighs, her body close, her dark hair falling forward. My breath hitched as I felt her hot, wet tongue. She expertly continued to finger-fuck me, her fingers pushing inside, gliding against my walls, while her mouth descended, engulfing my clitoris.

A profound, guttural cry tore from my throat. The dual sensation was dizzying, overwhelming, a level of pure, concentrated pleasure I hadn't known existed. Her tongue was a masterpiece, swirling, flicking, sucking on my clit, pulling it into her mouth with a suction that made my entire body hum. Her fingers, meanwhile, plunged deeper inside me, exploring, stretching, working with a rhythm that perfectly complemented the exquisite torture of her mouth. My hips bucked, a desperate, uncontrolled grind against her face, begging for more, more, more. My mind dissolved into a blissful fog, every nerve ending screaming with delight. The sounds I made were no longer recognizable as my own, raw, animalistic cries of pure abandon.

She seemed to know exactly how to push me, how to draw out the pleasure, how to build the tension to an almost unbearable point. Her mouth devoured me, her tongue tracing patterns I never knew could exist on my sensitive flesh, while her fingers twisted and stroked inside, exploring depths I didn't even know I possessed. My body trembled violently, a relentless, exquisite vibration building in my core. Every muscle clenched, every fiber of my being strained towards a single, shattering release. I was on the precipice, teetering, about to fall into the abyss of pure sensation.

"You're so close, honey," Lana purred, her voice muffled against my clit, her fingers still expertly working. "You want to cum for me, don't you, Beatrice? Let it all go."

"Yes," I gasped, my voice thin, desperate. "Please, Lana. Please!"

And then, with a final, powerful suck and a deep, penetrating thrust of her fingers, the world exploded. A blinding, white-hot wave of pleasure tore through me, so intense it felt like I was being ripped apart and put back together all at once. My body arched violently off the sofa, my legs stiffening, my back bowing. A raw, piercing scream tore from my throat, long and ragged, as wave after wave of shattering orgasm convulsed through me. My internal muscles clenched, squeezing, pulling, milking her fingers inside me, as I bucked and writhed, completely lost in the powerful, all-consuming climax. Tears streamed down my face, not of pain, but of pure, overwhelming release.

When the tremors finally subsided, leaving me breathless, trembling, and slick with sweat and my own wetness, Lana lifted her head. Her face was flushed, her lips glistening, and her eyes, dark and satisfied, met mine. She smiled, a triumphant, tender smile, and leaned up to kiss me softly on the lips, tasting herself on my mouth. "That's my good girl," she whispered, her voice rough with her own pleasure.

I threw my arm around Lana's neck and kissed her. Even after cumming twice, I felt wanton and feverish, a deep, persistent ache in my soul. This desire was different from what I had felt for Hudson. It wasn't about being objectified or playing the sex kitten, as it had felt during the threesome with two men. This was a different, more sensual, and empowering feeling. I wasn't thinking of myself as powerful because of my ability to please or seduce men. I felt a feminine power, one born from mutual attraction and a profound connection. I knew it was just sex and lust, but in this moment, it felt more significant, more meaningful. "Let me make you feel good," I told Lana, my voice husky with desire.

The older woman kissed me, then playfully broke away from my grasp. She stood and walked away. I was confused for a second, my mind fogged with orgasmic afterglow and lust. Lana walked past Hudson, moving sensually towards the bedroom door. Her hips swayed with a confident grace, her toned legs flexing with each step. I adored the way her silky white top clung to her curves, bouncing with her breast with each step. Her dark hair bobbed with her movements, a perfect frame for her alluring face.

At the bedroom door, Lana turned. Her brown eyes met mine, locking in a gaze filled with an undeniable invitation. She crooked a finger, beckoning me with a silent, come-hither look. Then, she entered the bedroom.

I got to my feet, shrugging off my already partially unbuttoned dress. It slid down my body, pooling at my feet on the carpet. I stepped out of it, leaving it discarded. Hudson watched me, his gaze unblinking as I followed Lana to the bedroom. Moments later, he followed, bringing a chair from the dining area. He sat it in the corner of the bedroom, positioning himself to watch, still not speaking or engaging in any way.

Standing at the foot of the big king-sized bed, Lana and I faced each other. My bra was still pushed down, my tits fully exposed. Lana reached around me, her fingers finding the clasp of my bra, and unhooked it. It fell to the floor, joining my dress.

"Do you want to undress me, Beatrice?" Lana asked, her voice a soft invitation.

I felt nervous and excited, a tremor running through me. I had never undressed another woman before, never touched one intimately, never fantasized about this moment. My fingers, a little clumsy, fumbled with the buttons of Lana's silky white blouse. Slowly, gradually, it opened, revealing her cleavage. Her skin, a warm, golden-tan, glowed against the white fabric. Beneath the blouse, she wore an elegant satin bra that perfectly matched her skin tone, barely visible against her tanned skin. As my fingers worked the blouse buttons, Lana unzipped her own skirt and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it, revealing a matching satin thong, wedged alluringly into her firm, round ass. Her body was exquisite, toned, a perfect hourglass, her tits full and high. She removed her own bra, baring her breasts. They were firm, perfectly shaped, and her brown nipples were hard and inviting.

We stood there, just in our panties, our eyes locked in a gaze of mutual desire. Lana gently took my head in her hands, guiding it towards her own breasts. I inhaled her scent, a mix of subtle perfume and pure female arousal. Slowly, tentatively, I took one of her nipples into my mouth. It felt different, softer, yet just as sensitive as my own. I licked, suckled, and teased, trying to mimic what she had just done to me, remembering the intoxicating sensations. My tongue swirled around her nipple, then gently pulled it into my mouth, drawing on it, testing her sensitivity. I was clumsy at first, but a powerful instinct guided my movements. This was new, exciting, a thrilling exploration of a different kind of pleasure. I alternated between her breasts, sucking and nipping gently, feeling her shiver and moan softly in my arms.

When our mouths finally parted from her breasts, we looked at each other, our eyes filled with a raw, undeniable lust. Without a word, I eagerly shed my satin panties, letting them fall to the floor. Lana mirrored my movements, sliding off her thong. Naked, we stepped onto the big king-sized bed, our bodies warm and seeking. We kissed, our lips hungry, our tongues dancing, our hands roaming freely over each other's bodies. My fingers traced the toned muscles of her stomach, the firm curve of her hips, the soft skin of her inner thighs. Her hands cupped my breasts, teasing my nipples, then slid down my belly, exploring my slick pussy. We tangled together, a dance of exploration and mutual desire, our moans mingling in the quiet room. The softness of her skin against mine, the curves of her body pressed to mine, was a revelation. It felt so incredibly natural, so right.

Eventually, Lana ended up on her back, her legs slightly parted, inviting. Slowly, cautiously, I positioned myself between her thighs. I inhaled again, her pussy was musky and sweet, undeniably female. For the first time, I looked up close at another woman's cunt. It was beautiful, a delicate, moist flower of pink folds, soft and inviting. My clit throbbed in anticipation.

Tentatively, nervously, I leaned down, my tongue darting out. I grazed her clit, then licked, slowly, experimentally. I was clumsy, unsure, but I wanted to make her feel what she had made me feel. I listened to her soft moans, felt her hips begin to shift under me. My confidence grew with each sound she made, each gentle thrust of her hips. My tongue worked harder, swirling, flicking, sucking gently. I used the very tips of my fingers to part her labia, exposing her clit more fully, and brought my mouth back to it, hungrily. She began to pant, her sounds growing louder, more desperate. Her hands went to her own tits, cupping them, teasing her nipples, her fingers circling them, mirroring my own actions from earlier.

"Use your fingers, Beatrice," Lana pleaded, her voice a raw, desperate whisper, her hips grinding into my face. "Please, honey, use your fingers."

My heart pounded with a new surge of power and confidence. This wasn't a command, it was a plea, a sign of her desire for me. My fingers slid between her legs, finding her already engorged clit. I began to work it, circling, flicking, stroking, alternating using my fingers and tongue. The combination was electrifying. She gasped, a deep, guttural sound of pure pleasure. "Yes, Bea," she moaned. "That's it, honey." I could feel the immense power I held, the pleasure I was creating for her.

"Cum for me, Lana," I whispered, my voice a little nervous, but also firm with my burgeoning desire to please her. "Cum for me."

Lana cried out, a loud, beautiful sound, her body arching and trembling against my mouth and fingers as she came. Wave after wave of intense orgasm convulsed through her, her muscles clenching around my fingers. But I didn't stop. I felt powerful. I wanted to give her more pleasure, to prolong her bliss. I kept my mouth and fingers working, reveling in her tremors.

As I continued eating out the more experienced woman, completely lost in the passion and the power of giving her pleasure, I suddenly felt the tip of Hudson's cock running up and down my wet slit. My body, still sensitive from my own recent orgasms and the incredible sensations with Lana, tingled fiercely. I had been so consumed by Lana, I hadn't even registered that Hudson had undressed completely. He was hard, his massive dick already pressing against me, coaxing.

"Just keep going, Bea," he murmured, his voice a low, rough command, close to my ear. "Focus on Lana. Keep making her cum."

He got in the bed behind me on his knees. Then, slowly, deliberately, he penetrated me from behind with his thick dick, sliding into my very wet pussy.

Hudson started fucking me slowly from behind. His dick, thick and hard, slid into my pussy, stretching me gently, a familiar ache blooming. My face was still buried in Lana's pussy, lapping hungrily, my tongue darting and swirling over her clit. Lana's thighs instinctively closed, clamping my head between them, holding me captive in her sweet wetness. A low moan escaped Lana, and a deep grunt vibrated from Hudson behind me. For a moment, a fleeting echo of the Alex threesome, I felt a familiar pang of being used, of being an object to their desires. But this time, it was different. This time, I decided to engage.

I gripped Lana's thighs, pulling her closer to me, asserting my own presence. The last time, I had felt out of control, trying my best to suck Alex's dick while Hudson fucked me. This time, Lana was my priority. I focused intently on giving her pleasure, my tongue working her clit with renewed fervor, my two fingers plunging deeper into her pussy, gliding along her walls. At the same time, Hudson began to fuck me more violently from behind. His thrusts were powerful, deep, and relentless. Yet, I moved effortlessly in rhythm with him, like we were one, my full breasts swaying with each powerful stroke.

The room filled with a symphony of sounds: Lana's soft, eager moans beneath me, my own grunts as Hudson pounded into me, and the rhythmic wet slapping of our flesh. The air was thick with the musk of our arousal, a heady blend of sweat, sex, and Lana's intoxicating female scent. I could feel the bed shake with the force of Hudson's thrusts, hear the soft creak of the springs beneath us.

"Take it, Bea!" Hudson rasped against my back, his voice thick with lust, a clear attempt to assert his dominance. "Take my dick while you eat that pussy! I'm gonna make you cum so hard for being such a good girl!"

I heard his praise, his familiar words of ownership, but they didn't have the normal impact. In this moment, he didn't possess me. I wasn't his good girl. I was empowered, a new feeling surging through my veins. My focus was on Lana, on making her cum again. The words that truly mattered were Lana's growing pleas.

"Oh, Beatrice," Lana moaned, her hips pressing harder into my face, her voice a desperate plea, "Yes, honey, right there! Oh, God, Bea, you're so good! Please, I need to cum! I need it, honey. Just a little more. You're so close! You're making me ache for it, Bea!"

I felt the almost detached, yet still very pleasurable sensation of being fucked by Hudson. His cock was a steady, powerful presence inside me, stretching me, filling me, a constant reminder of his raw strength. But the real thrill came from knowing I was going to make another woman cum for the second time. It was a potent, intoxicating power.

My tongue, lips, and teeth worked Lana's clit with a new, frantic hunger. I teased it, gently nipping, then sucking hard, pulling it into my mouth, then releasing it, driving her wild. My fingers inside her pussy stretched her, teased her, moved with a newfound confidence. She gasped, her body twitching, her moans becoming one continuous cry. Her hips bucked violently against my face, desperate for release.

"Yes, Beatrice, yes!" Lana screamed, her voice breaking.

She was so close. I felt the tremors begin in her body. And then, with a final, deliberate motion, I plunged a third finger deep into her cunt, shocking her. The sudden, unexpected penetration, combined with the relentless assault of my tongue and fingers, pushed her over the edge.

Lana screamed, a raw, piercing cry that filled the room. Her body stiffened, her legs locking around my head, clamping me even tighter against her. Wave after wave of massive, shattering orgasm convulsed through her, her muscles clenching around my fingers and tongue. She bucked and writhed against me, her cries turning into frantic sobs of pure, exquisite pleasure. Her entire body trembled violently, her tits bouncing wildly with each tremor. I felt her release, hot and sticky, coating my face and mouth. It was an explosion of pure sensation, and I, the one who had caused it, felt a surge of immense pride, a fierce triumph swelling in my chest.

As Lana lay there, trembling in the aftermath of her powerful climax, basking in the afterglow, I turned my head, my face still wet from her juices, and looked back at Hudson. His eyes were wide, his face flushed, his breath ragged. He was still fucking me, slowly, his rhythm a deep, consistent push and pull.

"Keep fucking me, Hudson," I commanded, my voice husky, thick with newfound power. "Fuck me harder. Faster." I had never been so assertive, so direct. He had always been the one in control, the one guiding my pleasure. Now, I was setting the pace. I was not dominant, not in the way he was, but I was firm, coaxing him, pulling him deeper into my will. "I want to cum, Hudson! Make me cum! Fill my pussy!"

His eyes widened further, a flicker of surprise, then raw lust. He obeyed, his thrusts deepening, picking up speed. My body moved in perfect sync with his, my bottom rising to meet him, my tits swaying wildly with each powerful drive. The bed groaned beneath us, a symphony of creaks and wet slaps. His grunts grew more erratic, almost desperate.

"God, Bea, you're so good!" he gasped, his voice thick and strained. "I'm gonna make you cum so good, sweetheart! Yes, I want you to cum! I'm gonna cum all in your pussy!" He seemed almost needy now, accepting that he was not controlling this, that he was doing my bidding, responding to my desires.

I reached back, my hand finding my own clit, rubbing it furiously through the slickness of my body. The pleasure built, quick and sharp, intensifying with each of his hard thrusts. My moans became raw cries again, my body arching against his.

And then, while I was still facing Lana's prone, naked body, still watching her soft afterglow, I started to cum. My muscles clenched, a powerful wave of orgasm tearing through me, making me gasp and convulse against Hudson. For once, he lost control. He groaned erratically, his body tensing, his thrusts becoming a frantic, uncontrolled pounding as he fucked me through my orgasm. Then, with a final, guttural grunt, he pulled out at the last second, his body shuddering with release. His hot, thick load erupted, splattering across my ass, slick and warm against my skin.

We lay there, the three of us, spent and breathing heavily, the air thick with the scent of our combined pleasure. Slowly, a comfortable silence settled, a shared exhaustion. That night, we all fell asleep in the king bed, Beatrice in the middle, cradled between Lana and Hudson.

I woke up sometime in the night, stirred by a gentle shifting. I was cuddled close in Lana's arms, her warmth enveloping me, her scent soft and comforting. Her arm was draped protectively over my waist, and her breath was soft against my hair. For a moment, a flicker of the old conflict, the lingering pangs of guilt, whispered at the edges of my mind. But they were quickly overshadowed by a profound sense of peace. I felt warm, relaxed, and strangely, undeniably, at home. I nuzzled up to Lana and drifted back to sleep, secure in the embrace of this woman who had so unexpectedly redefined my world.

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